Ghost Stories
by ParadoxPoca
Summary: When an incident leaves Kenny stuck on Earth as a roaming spirit, he reminisces about his former life and his relationship with Kyle Broflovski for the millionth time. [POV changes in the middle]


I watched the pair drift into sleep.

Sometimes I wondered what he'd think if he knew I was doing this. If he knew I even could do this.

He would probably be creeped out.

How long has it been?

You lose track of time when you're dead.

It was a happy sight. I had been jealous at first, very jealous. I was burning with hatred and envy. But then I changed. I accepted it.

As long as Kyle was happy.

The redhead was an angel when awake and an angel in sleep. He was perfect in every way. Stan was very lucky. The universe always liked him better than me, I suppose.

Every night was like this. What else was there to do?

Something had happened. I came back, but in a different way. I could never live again but I could never rest in peace. Just a lost spirit wandering the earth. But I was satisfied. Whether or not it was caused by me, I stayed for his smile.

He would probably think I'm a weirdo. But I do this because I love him. Without anything else to do, I devote eternity to him and him alone. Yet I don't know if he even remembers me. I wouldn't blame him. As a matter of fact, I would rather he not.

That would cause both of us unbearable pain.

All I want is for him to be happy, and it seems he is with Stan. So everything's fine. I'm fine.

I almost didn't realize how much closer I had gotten to him. I raised my hand as if to touch his cheek. It's not like I could.

That never stopped me from trying.

The results were the same, though. I'm just a spectator, an unimportant feature. He may have cared for me slightly in the past, but I wonder if he even remembers my name.

"_K-Kenny_?"

I told him we should get married many times when we were together. It was always in a joking manner, but we both knew I was serious in a way. And he would always give me that heavenly smile of his and reply,

"I don't plan on it too soon, but yes!"

We laughed, and I knew he didn't mean it as in accepting an engagement for real. But I didn't need that. We didn't need those to know if we're committed. Take me, the ex-whore of South Park. Me, the slut who'd take both girls and boys to bed, committed to one person. Leaving that lifestyle was already a huge step.

Thinking of these memories always make me smile. There's always this hint of pain, but it's dulled over the years. I could never get over it, I could never let myself, but I can try to lessen the heartache that comes with it. Pain is worth it, though. It's worth his happiness. I would never, ever wish to not love him.

As I saunter around his room, I think about how much he's changed since the incident. How much I've changed.

In the first year, I was frustrated with the universe and with God. Kyle would cry every night and every day. Stan could try to comfort him, but he wasn't ready to get over it. The next year, he hadn't changed much, but I was now angry at myself for letting it happen. I was mad that I could leave him like that, and I was sometimes even wishing he had never met me so that he could have been happier. Everyone knows I'm not the greatest partner.

Two years after that Kyle had gotten stable enough to act normal again, and he was closer to Stan than ever. I was still my furious and bitter self, mad at everything with everything mad at me. I almost knew Stan didn't think I was Kyle's greatest choice, and almost told him I was a mistake when Kyle brought up having a crush on me. But he's stubborn, another reason I love him.

And soon, years were flying by and they were together. In their own apartment, the one we used to share. He's stronger than anyone could ever know. Anyone but me. Only brave souls would dare stay in the same apartment as their dead loved one. Too many memories.

But he did.

Just like he did let himself fall in love with me, just like he did ask me out.

Just like he did make me love him more than anything.

Sometimes I think God has a cruel sense of humor. Yet for the little time I was with him, I didn't care if I was tortured for eternity and alone. Anything was worth it. Besides, I was already used to that.

Now he loves Stan, at least I think he does. I don't think he would let himself become me. Someone who uses others to dull the pain. He could never. He's too perfect.

But I deserve anything God throws at me. I was lucky to have Kyle for a second, and for each and every memory I have with him I'm grateful.

I'm merely a ghost. A spirit who never settles down. I can't.

Even when he dies, we can't be together.

I'm fine with that. He'll do much better with Stan without any distractions.

Now he's happy. He must be.

Am I?

No, of course not. I don't deserve to be.

But I like to think I am.

If he's happy, I'm happy. Or at least satisfied.

If he's happy, I don't need to exist anymore.

As my ghostly figure fades away, I smile.

Maybe there is a chance.

But old flames are hard to rekindle when new ones are in their place. And I understand that. I don't mind that. Stan can give him so much more.

There is one thing I must make clear, however.

No matter what happens, no one will ever love Kyle more than Kenny Mccormick.

And I promise that to you, whoever is out there.

I promise that to you, God.

I promise that to you, Kyle.

I can feel myself being pulled into Heaven. For what reason? I've been to Hell many times, does He just feel pity on me?

Whatever the reason, it seems I'll be going there.

Wherever I go, I assure you.

_I love you, Kyle_.

* * *

I groaned. I was never a heavy sleeper, and usually everything could wake me up. Before I could think about my unusual dream, with a face I wouldn't think would pop up in a million years, I turned my head to watch a small glow.

It was in the shape of a man, and soon there was a flash.

I didn't want to wake Stan up, I was interested. But what I saw was unexpected, to say the least.

"_K-Kenny_?" I whispered under my breath. I almost didn't notice I had said anything at all until the figure responded,

"I love you, Kyle."

I didn't know how long I was crying. These weren't sad tears, they were tears of happiness for whatever reason. His hand raised as if to caress my cheek, to wipe away my tears.

As it neared, I realized he couldn't.

I heard a sink running and realized Stan was in the kitchen, far enough that he wouldn't know anything about this. I smiled with tears running down my face, and so did he.

Since he couldn't, I wiped them away. I feel like he wouldn't want me crying, even if he could sob as much as he'd like.

With a final goodbye, he was gone.

I stared at the tiniest stain on our carpet. Next to it lay a small paper heart I remember making in fourth grade.

I smiled and went to sleep.

* * *

**AN: Another oldish one, since I'm back I'm just publishing things I wrote for the long time I wasn't on. Most of them are little oneshots, so you probably will only see a few. Hope you liked it~ (I also realized I liked to space things out a lot, I should probably cut down on that heh)**


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